


Heart Made of Glass, My Mind of Stone

by indigomini



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, nonAU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-05 17:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19045333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: Thought I found a wayBut you never go awaySo I guess I gotta stay now





	1. Heart Made of Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Song inspo for this is "lovely" by Billie Eilish, part 2 coming soon, I wrote this all at once, and it's a big mess, but here goes

It’s Chanyeol’s favorite joke, recounting their first meeting. Ha-ha, hilarious that someone could be afraid of his cute, diminutive friend. He’s even shared it with fans so many times over the years, that it’s a running joke among the fans now how tickled Chanyeol is over them that he’ll tell it over and over.

It  _ is _ , objectively, funny that Jongin mistook his hyung’s astigmatism for discontent. Because Kyungsoo is such a warm, wonderful person in reality. And Jongin considers himself a pretty warm, wonderful person to be around as well, therefore he should have somehow sensed it. He always thought he had a knack for it, too, and to have that bit of ego dashed so spectacularly has always stood out, even without Chanyeol’s constant retellings.

Chanyeol is running through the story again, to some family friend in the background as Jongin settles into the couch, willing everyone to quiet down.

The world is finally getting to see how warm and wonderful his bandmate is too. Kyungsoo is like him, and prefers to step back when it’s press stuff, award stuff, variety stuff. Let the others handle it. Beagle line is always more than eager to fill up the time anyway. Kyungsoo comes to life on stage in a way so similar yet so different to him. It always amuses him, hearing new viral fancams of his performances, hearing celebrities make headlines announcing that they are now Kai stans. It’s flattering. And yet, whenever a new live album gets released, it’s always so incredible to hear how much Kyungsoo shines. He breathes life into the tracks with his ad-libs, his runs, his extra flairs, in a way not unlike how Jongin measures his own performances on stage. Jongin’s nearly invisible on the tracks in the way that Kyungsoo shies away when it comes to performing. They complement each other so well.

Kyungsoo has arrived, and is currently being jostled around by both Chanyeol and Jongdae as they introduce him. The show has already started. Jongin scowls as they continue, oblivious. He grabs the remote and cranks up the volume, letting the opening theme drown everyone out.

It’s a big deal. It’s Kyungsoo’s first show as a main lead. He’s been working so hard. The views are important.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo greets him, sliding in next to him on the otherwise empty couch.

“Hey,” Jongin pulls his legs up under himself to get comfortable, adjusting as Kyungsoo leans against him.

Kyungsoo recounts, under his breath, little bits of trivia about shooting as they watch the episode unfold. The commentary is much appreciated. Jongin has been working on acting as well. It was never really something he put much thought into. He watched for the story, for the visual. Having had a little experience under his belt now, he watches and appreciates how Nam Jihyun times her reactions to match so organically with Kyungsoo’s. She’s a great actress. He appreciates her even more as Kyungsoo talks about how comfortable they were on set and how professional she was.

“His ears are so red,” Minseok observes loudly, eyes glued to the screen, gesturing pointedly.

“Oh my god, look, they are!” Chanyeol cackles uproariously.

Kyungsoo kicks one of them, but doesn’t bother too much. He’s turning red though. “Aigoo, the camera is ridiculous,” he mutters.

It is. All the dramatic cuts to show the exact same time spread out over ten seconds instead of two. Jongin smirks, waiting for Jongdae’s voice to come in.

Wondeuk clasps Hongshim and draws her in. He leans in, cants his head, cut, cut, cut. And then he presses his mouth against hers, lips parted, and holds. Draws back. And forward, press, caress, repeat.

Jongin freezes.

He knew the kiss was coming. Kyungsoo had mentioned it ages ago. It was a drama. Of course, there would be kissing.

_ “It’s my moment to shine!” _ Jongdae wails over his own soundtrack.

He just didn’t expect it to look so… well done and natural.

“I wanted to die,” Kyungsoo moans softly. “We had to do that take a bunch of times for those stupid camera angles.”

The bunnies start the credits, and Jongin is out of there. Jongin is in his room. Jongin is breathing, not gasping, breathing, just breathing, not thinking, not remembering—

  
  


“You know what I miss the most?” Kyungsoo half-whispers while using a sliver of thumbnail to scrape and scrape until the corner of his phone’s screen protector finally lifts up.

They’ve been drinking. Not enough to get drunk, just to the level they imagine other twenty year old men would be at, buzzing and stumbling through the streets in search of late night bar food. They’re buzzing in Jongin’s room, instead. Idol life doesn’t allow for drunken stumbling in public. Their company would flay them alive.

They were talking about girls. He thinks. It’s a weird conversation. Hot girls. Jongin listed off some of his sisters’ favorite actresses that he hopes are in their 20s or 30s. He nodded along as Kyungsoo talked about some American actresses, as if he recognized any of their names as well.

“What?” he asks.  _ Please don’t say pussy.  _ It’s already weird.

“Kissing.” Kyungsoo smiles and grabs the bottle to take another swig. He gives Jongin a toothy grin. “You know what I mean?”

Sure. Jongin nods, gnawing on his lip as he waits for his turn to drink. The last few years have been a blur. Failed romances have been ages ago. Kissing was never really all that great anyway. He would rather be dancing. 

“Like, not even a whole relationship or courting or any of that mess,” Kyungsoo chuckles as if he’s just told a joke. “And obviously, that’s not gonna happen anytime soon. It’s just like… man. You know?”

“Right,” Jongin nods again.

“Like,” Kyungsoo cradles Jongin’s head, suddenly right in front of him. “Like, there’s something really hot about this, you know?” He leans in, so they’re just a breath away from each other. 

Jongin can smell the alcohol heavy on his lips. He swallows, blinks, and stares.

“...Do you know what I mean?” Kyungsoo whispers. “Like how someone’s lips feel against yours.”

Heart shaped lips. Swollen and red, glistening once Kyungsoo sucks his bottom lip in and drags his teeth against it, popping it out with a jiggle.

Jongin thinks about heart shaped lips a lot. He gulps and nods again before he realizes he’s been subconsciously echoing his hyung’s movements, unable to ignore how dilated Kyungsoo’s pupils seem.

“Wouldn’t it be funny…” Kyungsoo mutters.

“Funny what…” Jongin whispers back.

He meets Kyungsoo halfway. The contact feels so sudden that he gasps, provoking a giggle from Kyungsoo before he presses in again, molding his lips against Jongin’s. Jongin sucks his lower lip in, and Hyung lets out a weak mewl and a sigh before pulling insistently against Jongin’s neck.

It spirals like a spark to prime tinder. Kyungsoo’s next laugh is husky, hungry, and even as their teeth clack against one another as they land on the carpet, their mouths continue to find each other, to slot together, pressing and pulling, suckling.

Kyungsoo palms at his chest and they break apart as he laughs loudly. “I—” Hyung laughs as they both gasp for air, “I don’t know why I expected boobs, I—” It is he who cuts himself off, who grabs Jongin by the hair and pulls him back in for more. It is Jongin who rolls on top of him, who flattens himself against Kyungsoo’s body, who lets out a shuddering breath once their lower halves make contact.

Their mouths part once more. Kyungsoo fists his hands into Jongin’s shirt, urgently pulling him back. He  _ aches _ , he’s never felt like this before, this intensity, Jongin’s hips roll forward on their own, his hands push Hyung’s away, and suddenly, they find buttons, find zippers, and—

And he could live a hundred years, a thousand years, and never forget the choked sound Kyungsoo made, the expression in his eyes before they rolled back in his head. 

“Jongin-ah,” Kyungsoo whispers, trembling slightly as Jongin’s inexperienced hand moves over him. “Jongin-ah, let me try too.”

“What?” He’s in a drunken daze, determinedly jerking off his bandmate’s dick and oblivious to everything else in the world. “Why?”

Kyungsoo laughs again, a rattling exhale, really, before it mellows into a drawn out, breathy moan. He shakes his head as he wordlessly undoes Jongin’s snug pants. “This is crazy,” he murmurs.

  
  


“Food’s ready, Jongin-ah.”

“Yeah.”

The door shuts, and Jongin sighs, partly in relief, partly in annoyance. He’s tired enough, please don’t bother him.

“Come on, Jongin. It’s still hot.”

He jumps slightly, turning to the door just in time to catch the smug look on Kyungsoo’s face. “I thought you left.”

“Obviously.”

They lock into an awkward staring contest, and Jongin sulks to himself as he admits defeat, closing his laptop and pulling himself out of bed.

“What were you working on?” Kyungsoo asks as a consolation prize, as they walk down the hallway together.

“Nothing.” He’s still sullen. But a few more feet down the hall, he folds again. “Just trying to find time to meet with Wonshik and Moonkyu.”

“Not Taemin?”

“It’s me and him trying to coordinate with the other two.”

“Oh.” Kyungsoo falls silent the rest of the way. The pot is nearly empty by the time they reach the kitchen, everyone else already having scavenged and portioned off their servings. Kyungsoo pulls out a chair and sits opposite to him, folding his arms on the table. Waiting.

If Jongin finishes eating in the next five minutes, he can see if Moonkyu is available to go—

“You’re always hanging with your friends.”

He swallows his bite carefully before looking up. “As opposed to what?”

Kyungsoo shrugs, still not looking away.

What’s he expecting Jongin to say? “Where did you and Sehun go for that off-roading thing?”

“Why?”

His turn to shrug. “I think Moonkyu was wanting to go check it out, and we’ve got some free time coming up soon.”

“I think you spend more time with them than you do with the members.”

“Probably,” Jongin admits freely, studying him. He’s trying to make a point, it seems.

But Kyungsoo doesn’t. Instead, he taps the table surface twice, and nods, bidding some quick farewell and going back to his room.

Jongin’s phone vibrates, and he pulls it out of his pocket. Taemin made plans. Awesome.

The interaction leaves a weird taste in his mouth. He’s about to take another bite when he looks down and sees his spoon shaking, his hand trembling.

_ You’re always hanging out with your friends. _

His friends picked him up and put him back together. They didn’t judge him. They didn’t reprimand him. They consoled him after someone else just smiled and remarked on what a wild night it was.

They’re all he has. What is this judgement. 

His phone vibrates again. 

**_Gyeungsu hyeonnnng:_ **

_ So are you going out later _

_ Why _

_ We can watch a movie if you’re staying _

_ I found something i think you’d like _

If this was coming from someone else, Jongin would call it jealousy. It is so tempting to be petty.  _ No thanks, busy _ . But he can’t even bring his fingers to move across the screen. What does he want? On one hand is sanity, but on the other is him and Kyungsoo snuggled up in his room, sharing weird theories and discussing pointless things for as long as possible. The promise of nostalgia and fantasy.

Is he in the mood to have his heart fooled again tonight?

Once again, the dark thought comes to him: maybe he can just find someone to hook up with, to relieve some of this confusion and frustration, and to see what happens. Maybe then, he might see what jealousy actually looks like on Do Kyungsoo. For comparison.

Or maybe not. Likely not. Not. Acceptance. It’s not jealousy. Why would Kyungsoo be jealous of his friends?

And yet…

_ Sounds fun, i’m in _

_ Kk _

  
  


The yoga mat barely provides any cushion on the practice floor. Jongin stretches into it anyway, ignoring the ache, pushing through it. He stares at the cheesy cloud wallpaper, willing himself to focus on that instead of how his tendons feel like they’re creaking. He needs to clean up this section of the choreography before lunch. His body just needs to accept that.

His hamstring aches and aches and then goes numb. Jongin freezes on a prayer, but it doesn’t lessen. Reluctantly, he straightens out, slumping onto the thin mat in defeat. He whines, loudly, obnoxiously, letting the sound carry and echo through the empty room.

“You sound like a scooter.”

Jongin nearly leaps out of his skin. “How long have you been there?”

“Hours,” Kyungsoo drawls sarcastically, stomping over to him. “Take a break.”

“I think I’ll just die instead.”

“Don’t die, I could use a scooter to get home instead of taking the train.” Kyungsoo shoulders him to shuffle aside. He holds up a bag of gummies. Contraband. His eyes twinkle mischievously. “I brought fuel.”

Jongin groans and drags his palms all over his face, hoping to scrub away the weariness. He slumps against Kyungsoo, and continues to dramatically slide, until he’s flat on his stomach on the thin foam. 

“Damn, Kai, that body roll,” Kyungsoo wolf-whistles.

Sluggishly, he reaches toward the wall to nudge his phone closer to him. His mom called. He’s got a few texts from his friends. He hasn’t seen them in ages. Friends are a luxury, apparently.

Kyungsoo lays down next to him. And then flops side to side, gaining enough inertia to roll on top of him, shifting and wiggling so he can rest his chin on Jongin’s shoulder.

Jongin smiles. He loves Weirdo Kyungsoo. He only got to see Weirdo Kyungsoo a few times when his brother Seungsoo visited, but lately, they’ve been getting a lot closer. Weirdo Kyungsoo is the best.

Kyungsoo tucks his arms through Jongin’s armpits and makes goofy, narrative noises as he rips the bag of candy open, pretending they’re actually Jongin’s arms doing so. He stuffs a handful into Jongin’s mouth, a quarter of the tiny, multicolored bears totally missing their mark, and falling all over the mat.

“Oh, nooo!” Kyungsoo giggles, picking them up and popping them, rapidfire, into his own mouth.

Weirdo Kyungsoo is so cute, Jongin really could just combust from it all. He closes out his messages and tries not to throttle his phone as the camera app takes its time to load. He dropped it way too many times, and it really needs to be replaced. Someone on staff said they have family who can fix it for cheap. He makes a mental note to follow up on that later. Finally, his camera loads, and he wiggles around so Kyungsoo has to counterbalance as he waits for it to flip to the front camera. “ _ Smile! _ ” he announces.

Kyungsoo scoots forward, pressing his cheek right against Jongin’s to peer into the screen. As Jongin repeatedly thumbs the shutter button, he makes faces, crossing his eyes, turning his nose up, and then turns to Jongin, planting a big, messy kiss on his cheekbone, followed by a streak of tongue.

“Ew,” Jongin whines, wiping his wet face back against Kyungsoo’s, finger still relentlessly capturing the moment. He supposes his reaction should’ve been bigger, but it seemed… normal? Not that Hyung had ever done that before, but he enjoys Kyungsoo’s weird gestures. They don’t really disgust him.

How funny that not that long ago, he thought Kyungsoo was some joyless potato with no sense of humor.

“Don’t I look handsome?” Kyungsoo shoots a fake-sultry look at the camera, eyes hooded, tongue licking lewdly, exaggeratedly over his lips.

Jongin’s thumb finally halts. He stares at their reflection as Hyung continues to make faces.

“Praise me, I praise you all the time,” Kyungsoo whines.

“You look so cute, hyung,” Jongin mumbles in awe, watching Kyungsoo cycle through some aegyo poses.

“Yah, I asked for handsome.”

That, anybody can see. But this is better. The cute is only for him to see. He’s part of a very elite group. Jongin laughs, “Sorry, my Most Handsome Hyung.”

“That’s better.”


	2. My Mind of Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I think this is probably a little confusing. I rushed through it, because ....sanity. But for sake of coherence, please pretend Soo's show came out like...way before it did. So last chapter was basically in reverse, and this chapter is in normal chronological sequence.

_This too shall pass_.

Jongin remembers reading that through Google Translate a few years ago. It’s one of his favorite sayings. Something that can make one happy when they are sad, and curse them in the height of joy.

Kyungsoo leans into him as the car turns a sharp corner, and stays tucked into his side. He’s tired.

This too shall pass.

One day, they won’t be packed into cars like sardines, going to award shows. One day, they won’t dread running on two hours of collective sleep and a granola bar to bang out hours of rehearsal.

But that means that one day, this will all be over. They will just be people. Former somethings.

This is not wholly unpleasant. They will get to be people. They will get to be something other than public property, commercialized, glamorized, polished until raw and weeping.

He’s not sure he knows how to be a person. He has only been this one thing since eight. It will be thrilling, albeit terrifying, to learn.

They blow through warm-up and the first sets of rehearsal. There are a lot of complicated parts, as expected of MAMA. He and Sehun obsess over their stage during breaks, and Yixing constantly goes back to check the moving stage, to reassure himself of survival.

He is tense. Trust the concept, they say, before dropping this all on them last minute. They’re exhausted to begin with, and having to rush learn a new choreography right after Tokyo Dome in the final hours puts him on the edge.

After this, they will get a small meal break. He’s just gotta get through the next few hours.

Kyungsoo sits across the table and fusses over him, repeatedly plopping more food down into his bowl. _“Eat,”_ he says sternly.

This too shall pass. One day, he will look up, and there will be no Kyungsoo on the other side of the table. There will be no Hyung saving him a spot on the couch. When EXO is over, there will be no reason for them to see each other anymore. What do coworkers need reunions for?

What does it matter if one is in love with the other? It means nothing unless it’s a completed circle.

Maybe this feeling, too, shall one day pass. Maybe someday, soon, Kyungsoo can fall asleep next to him, and Jongin will just go the fuck to sleep too, instead of watching and pining despite all his best efforts.

“I think I don’t want you to touch me anymore,” he hears himself say in monotone.

They are alone for a spell. Kyungsoo blinks in surprise and draws his fingers away from Jongin’s hair. “Did I do something?”

“I don’t know how to be like you.”

“What does that mean, Nini?”

It’s been over two years since the Not Drunken Night and acting like that was just some wild dream, but it’s been years before since he realized that his feelings of fondness were more than just fondness, and that attraction cannot be redirected or suppressed. It is exhausting, and though it may pass, it has not yet.

He’s so tired.

“I don’t know how to be affectionate and playful and flirty with you, and not want anything more afterward. Let’s just not do that anymore.”

Kyungsoo is silent, studying him warily. “...We’re friends, Jongin-ah. Aren’t we?”

“ _You_ kissed _me_ and then told me it meant nothing.”

“Jong—”

His lip quivers. This is not the time or place, but the dam has broken. “I think… you knew. That I was in love with you. When you did it.”

Kyungsoo goes still as an image.

“You did,” he says in awe, more emboldened by numb stubbornness than confirmation. “Because I’m safe. I wouldn’t tell anyone. But I could make you feel wanted.”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I think you get jealous when I’m not worshiping you.” His voice sounds so apathetic, as if he was just reciting a script. “I think — I can’t decide. I can’t decide if you cuddle up against me, hoping that I would initiate another ‘silly drunken romp’ that you can laugh off, or just wanting to get everything out of me without actually having to face the prospect of sex.”

“Or maybe I’m just your friend, wanting to spend time with you,” Kyungsoo counters defensively.

“Or maybe you’re just my friend, wanting to spend time with me,” he echoes, a hot tear tracking down his face. He wipes it away before Kyungsoo can, careful not to smudge his makeup. He swallows, although the lump in his throat remains at the sight of Kyungsoo’s outstretched fingers. Finally brave enough to make eye contact with him again shows Hyung looking more worried than agitated. “I’m very grateful for my friends. My friends consider my feelings. So because you’re my friend, because you care about me, please know that when you touch me, when you get jealous of me spending time with my other friends, it confuses me. It makes me think that you might feel the same way I do.”

Kyungsoo’s face grows stormy. Something in it brings him a small bit of satisfaction. It’s a low blow, but Jongin can’t resist. He stands up on shaky legs, like a newborn deer. “I’m gonna go over the routine with Sehun again. Thank you for listening, hyung.”

  


**_kyungsoo:_ **

_You free_

_Yeah_

_Come to the garage_

_Why?_

_See you in a bit_

Kyungsoo’s car is waiting right by the door when Jongin enters the parking garage. He waits, but with no further prompting, eventually opens the door, and folds himself into the passenger seat. Kyungsoo drives off, turning out of the garage and toward the main road.

“I didn’t even put shoes on,” Jongin notes as he straps his seat belt on.

“It’ll be fine.”

They haven’t spoken much recently. A little more than bare minimum to function. A little less than comfortable, regular acquaintances. It only bothers him when he thinks about it. The text was a total surprise.

“Where are we going?” They are merging onto the freeway. Jongin tries to mentally map possible routes, but he has no idea. He thought Kyungsoo was home for the weekend, anyway.

“My house.”

“Why?”

Kyungsoo glances over at him, a soft, amused glimmer in his eye. “I’m asking for ten minutes of patience. Can I have that, please?”

What a sucker he is that some sass from Hyung is enough to command his obedience. He stares out the window the rest of the short drive, suddenly embarrassed and anxious. They pull up to the familiar building, and Kyungsoo turns off the engine. He’s around the car by the time Jongin steps out, and the air is heavy between them, but he leads Jongin in.

They are alone, he discovers. The house is fragrant with food, but the Dos are nowhere in sight. Kyungsoo walks to the small dining table and pulls a chair out a quarter turn, turning back to make sure Jongin was watching, and then continuing to the other side and seating himself.

Scattered dishes cover the table. Jongin warily sits, perching himself delicately onto the seat. He looks to Kyungsoo, questions in his eyes.

“I’ve been watching a lot of Chef’s Table,” Kyungsoo says, as an explanation.

“I know…?”

A wry smile curves Kyungsoo’s lips upward as he studies the spread. “It’s not… the best. But I made everything. I think it’s not bad though, and I know what I’ll do different next time so that it’s better.”

Jongin, too, looks over everything. He’s still confused, and this isn’t an answer. This is frustrating. He turns back to Hyung, hoping for more than that.

Kyungsoo’s ears redden. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and his tongue dips out to wet his lips nervously. “I made it for you.”

“...Why?”

“Because—” Kyungsoo’s mouth flaps soundlessly as his expression grows more helpless. “Because I care about you. And I want to take care of you. And… I want you to be happy. Because you’re important to me.” He licks his lips again.

Jongin’s chest tightens and he feels tears well up. It’s too confusing. It’s too overwhelming. He looks around again, in case the Dos were just busy or in the bathroom before his arrival.

“What are you looking for, Jongin-ah?”

Something, anything, to show a sign of normalcy. He doesn’t know what is happening. But he can’t convey that, and instead shakes his head.

“Is- Is this okay?”

Something gurgles in his throat. “Why did you bring me here?”

Please. Cut through the bullshit. He can’t take it.

Kyungsoo exhales softly. He fumbles with the edge of the table, pads of his fingers grazing the wood grain as he watches Jongin. He sighs again. “To apologize.”

Something drops in his stomach. “I don’t need you to ap—”

“And to ask for a second chance,” Kyungsoo cuts him off. “A really long overdue request.”

His face tingles as it goes numb all over. “...I don’t understand.”

“I’m… sorry, Nini. For—” Hyung wets his lip again, gnawing on it for a turn before continuing, “For going for the easy route. Instead of the one that I wanted.”

Jongin stares.

Hyung’s mouth spasms into a frown and he lets out a small gasp. “I’m not made of stone. I care so much about you. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me.”

This doesn’t answer why they’re here. What is he supposed to do?

“Please let me make it up to you?” And here, Kyungsoo unleashes his most potent form. His large eyes soften, and his soul shines eagerly through them, blinding Jongin from all reason and thought.

No matter what he does to try to convince himself, it is impossible for him to forget his feelings.

Feeling his mind spiral out of control, Jongin grounds himself with the surface of the table. He surveys the small dishes again, organized into neat rows and meticulous in a way that is distinctly Kyungsoo. He had prepared this for Jongin, and then drove to the dorms to bring him here. He delivered his speech. He—

“...Is this a date?” Jongin asks, perhaps a little too loudly in order to hear it over the ringing in his ears.

Hyung lets out a puff of air and the right corner of his lips tilt up a fraction. “If you’ll allow it to be?"

  


Jongin doesn’t have much in life. In this time of skyrocketing unemployment and job insecurity, he’s a mid-20s guy with a high school diploma, a very niche skill set, and chronic back pain. He can count the amount of real friends he has in single digits. He doesn’t need much to live, so money is not a concern. There is at least that.

“You’re pretty, too,” Kyungsoo adds, arms slumping around Jongin’s shoulders and resting his chin on them so he can spy on Jongin’s phone. “Don’t forget that either.”

“Am I?” he asks, turning to catch Hyung’s eye.

“So pretty,” Kyungsoo reassures him with a stroke down his nose bridge.

As much as his agency would like to deny him, well, agency, Jongin has always managed to quarter off a part of himself. He’s put his heart and his soul into Kai and EXO, and more often than not, that means he doesn’t spend time cultivating this private piece of himself, but it is still his and his alone.

It’s gotten him in trouble more often than not.

That pales in comparison to Kyungsoo, though. Hyung is polite to a fault. He is respectful and professional and placid, and he is able to juggle all of those traits while being so obstinate, so bullheaded, Jongin’s quite surprised that people’s heads don’t spontaneously skyrocket when they try to coerce him.

“Let’s go be monks in the mountains,” Jongin suggests glibly.

“The mountains are too steep. It’d be dangerous for monks to do Chaines turns on them,” Hyung counters, stroking Jongin’s hair now.

“That’s plural. You would do them with me?”

He gets a kiss to the temple. “All day long. We could be like Beyblades, battling to the death.”

Jongin snickers.

“Or we can just start a farm. Go off-grid. Somewhere we don’t have to worry about yellow dust. Shower in waterfalls. Bike to the beach.”

“That sounds too perfect. What would there be to worry about?”

Hyung shrugs, sighing into the fantasy. “Hmmm. Weeds and vagabonds, I think. Zombie outbreaks. And shipping.”

“Shipping?”

“So we wouldn’t have to drive into the city to get supplies. We’d just get everything shipped. The address could read: ‘Turn left at the maple tree. Go down the dirt road. Fight the privacy lynx. Drop off package on the front porch.’”

He smiles at the thought, and the smile lingers on his face as Jongin’s mind trails back to where it started. The smile falls. “I don’t want to be forgotten.”

“We’re not being forgotten,” Hyung rubs his back reassuringly. “We’re being shelved. Obsolescence comes later.”

“Well, I don’t want that either.”

He has Kyungsoo. It’s a simple thought, but a powerful one. It’s one thing that he can confide in his friends, lament shortcomings of their industry, but it’s another to have someone right here who comprehensively gets it, and won’t just sympathize. He doesn’t need explanations. He’s a comrade.

“I just want to do things like how we’ve been doing,” Kyungsoo laments. It’s only here in private that he allows himself to do something so unproductive as whine. “Why can’t we just keep doing that?”

Their private life is their own. Somehow, it leaked to higher ups what Jongin and Kyungsoo do in their free time, alone in the shadows, but the company doesn’t care. They’re not in the business of politics and rights. They’re in the business of making money. Which is about as beneficial as a guillotine not caring what your sexual orientation is.

It’s Jongin’s turn to be the pragmatic one. “Because we can't walk on the same road that we've been on anymore.” He can’t help himself though, adding, “We worked so hard.”

“Everyone in this entire industry works so hard,” Hyung reminds him.

“But we’re different.” It's a petulant thought, but honestly, not a false one.

Kyungsoo starts massaging his shoulders. “And when they realized it, they worked double overtime to make sure to fix that.”

“I don’t want to be fixed.”

The massage continues, although Kyungsoo goes silent. He’s lost in thought. While Jongin is morose, he feels a shift in the mood. It’s like he could almost hear the gears turning in Kyungsoo’s head.

“Hyung?”

“I remember a line in a comic book, a long time ago,” Kyungsoo says, sounding far away. “‘Your life is your own. Your death, likewise. Always and forever your own.’”

That sounds very foreboding. Jongin waits in silence. Kyungsoo has an idiosyncratic, cyclic way of getting his points across.

Kyungsoo turns him around so they can face each other. His lips carry a hint of a smirk. “You said you liked Swing Kids, right?”

  


Cebu is so beautiful, Jongin returns almost immediately after his first visit. Despite Taemin's insane schedule and forever obsessive training, even he makes time to go this round. The whole crew is here.

He hears Baekhyun humming his new song in the next room. Jongdae's album is setting new records. He is so proud of his members, he is. There is still that strange gut feeling whenever he notices them working on something though. His body panics, thinking he should have been working on something too, to get ready, like it's caught in a dream where he forgot to do his homework or study for an exam back in school days.

Maybe he'll go to university too. Maybe he'll get into modeling. Maybe he'll just tour dance schools and learn what life looks like outside of kpop.

Who knows? The world will be his oyster.

He'll miss his fans. They've been (for the most part) extremely supportive and enthusiastic that he's been back on social media for the past few months. It's a great opportunity for him to actually see them in a context other than ear-piercing screeching when he grinds on a cane on stage. He gets to actually talk to them, although he dare not wander back into the DM requests section. Thar be monsters lying in wake.

Rahee and Reon are growing up so fast. This hurts the most. The reminder of a life he's missed out on, being Kai. One moment, he was tickling a newborn's chunky cheeks, the next visit, her hair is long enough to be in a ponytail, and she's already using chopsticks. He's able to see more of Baby Reon, at least. Being Uncle Jongin is a lot harder than Uncle Kai. Snapshots are always way easier than actual moments. He learns to babysit, a strangely difficult skill to do well. Kids have such small attention spans, and they don't care if you've got other plans, or would like to finish scrolling through your Instagram.

He'll miss them the most. He'll still see them, of course, but he won't be able to pick them up from school, won't be able to tuck them in, take them shopping.

Sometimes, he thinks it'd be hilarious if Taemin and Wonshik could come too. But Moonkyu is, and that's more than enough. He's not greedy.

Life is weird without schedule. Without having to run a hamster wheel, Jongin is learning, in a distorted way, what it's like to get to be human.

He can book a flight for New York just to see Gucci. France. Italy. Maybe he can squeeze another trip back to Cebu.

Jongin scrolls through Instagram to his favorite weirdo's account. Kyungsoo doesn't know how to use frames, something that amuses him to no end. They could pass for stock photos. Here is a shot of diced onions. Here is a shot of a cherry blossom. Here is a fish with a gelatinous tumor on its head that people find pretty. Here is a poop he shaped out of chocolate.

He can hear Hyung's explanation about the rule of thirds right now, scrolling through his huge collection. He takes his compositions very seriously, even when they're out of absolutely random things.

They're not random though. They're memories. Hyung's archive is to capture the smells and shapes and moments where he's walking through a night market or shopping mall or museum. Memories with people who care.

It _does_ bother him that Hyung will just take his own group shots instead of just recycling other people's or ask someone to take one for him. Would it kill him to be in the photos as well, so Jongin can see?

They haven't gone on a vacation together recently. Ask Kyungsoo, and he gets so dry about it, as if they are about to be bound by the hip for the next eighteen months.

Instead, they are couch potatoes when together, Netflix and chilling, eating dinner. It's surprisingly nice to sit down for a meal and have things to catch up on. What purpose would there be before to recount his day when Kyungsoo was literally with him from sunrise, rehearsing all day? It's refreshing.

The news broke of Kyungsoo's enlistment on his way back from Italy. EXO Planet #5 hits almost immediately after, within the hour, he's told. Jongin rolls his eyes and checks his text messages. Hyung mentioned something about having to bang out a quick note for the fans.

Sehun and Chanyeol's MV should be ready soon, no doubt the teaser will be ready in time to drown out the next announcement. He's already got to hear Baekhyun's tracks. Junmyeon has been trying to give him tips every day, things he might want to consider working on to prepare.

Prepare? He's just spending time with his family, getting praise from his mom and sisters, and hanging with his niece and nephew, his pups. Making the most out of this liminal window where he can be Just Jongin for the first time since he too was a child.

This too shall pass.

His and Moonkyu's enlistment news will break soon. He's kind of looking forward to the whole pageantry of it. Shaving his head will be interesting. Kyungsoo swears it was the best thing ever. He's most excited to see if the drills will actually be more challenging compared to idol training, idol life. Something that the world sees as so frilly and pastel, but in reality, grueling and undignified. It too, breaks you down and builds you back up anew. Hyung says they're apples and oranges to compare.

They'll see for themselves, he supposes. Together.

And then afterwards? Who knows?

The thought thrills him to no end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this actually made me feel a lot better.


End file.
